


Chores Schmores

by trash4ficsaboutlurv



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5002789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash4ficsaboutlurv/pseuds/trash4ficsaboutlurv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Steve discovers there are limits to his powers and Sam realizes he is stronger than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chores Schmores

Sam dropped the grocery bags on the table and flexed his hands, his knuckles popping like soda tops. His fingertips tingled as the blood rushed back. “You know,” he said as he examined the bruises on his palms, “with your super strength and super appetite, maybe you should be the one carrying a thousand pounds of groceries up three flights of stairs” He walked into the living room and bent over the back of the sofa to kiss the crown of Steve’s head. “Just a thought.”

Steve leaned back into Sam’s touch and fumbled for the remote beside him without looking. Sam scooped it up and pressed the power button.

“I was watching the news,” Steve explained.

“The S.H.I.E.L.D shit show?”

“One and the same.”

Steve’s worried expression was reflected in the glossy, black TV screen. “It’s not all on you,” Sam reminded him.

Steve nodded and closed his eyes as Sam ran his fingers through his hair. He sighed and Sam recognized that sigh. He pulled his hands away.

“Help me put away the groceries,” he leveraged. “Then we’ll talk head massages.”

Steve tilted his chin and looked up at Sam; his eyes were suspiciously guileless. Sam shook his head. He had to be firm from the get-go if he didn’t want Steve’s puppy dog eyes working their curious magic.

“That's not gonna work on me," he warned. "I’ve got nieces and nephews. I house trained a golden retriever, when my own mama couldn’t tell it no. I yelled at a kitten once--a kitten, Steve--and didn’t feel any guilt. None. I am ice cold.” The stupid, love-smacked grin on Sam's face told a different story as Steve’s lips formed the perfect pout. “I can resist you,” Sam insisted.

Steve was laying it on thick now. He had a gift for looking as innocent as an infant while working his way through Sam's defenses. “It’s all so much," he said. "S.H.I.E.L.D. Hydra. Groceries. Such heavy burdens; I’ve got the world on my shoulders.” He sighed, the perfect mix of nobility and exhaustion. If the guy hadn’t used this exact line of reasoning yesterday to get out of putting the shelves up in the guest bedroom, Sam might have been taken in.

He swatted Steve’s shoulders.

“Nice try, Atlas. But _I’m_ the guy carrying you _and_ your burdens around.” He flicked Steve’s ear and then folded his arms across his chest in the ‘I’m not backing down’ pose.

Steven groaned. He’d finally worn the perfect butt print into Sam’s couch. He heaved himself to his feet, accepting the loss with little dignity. He was a super soldier, sure, but no one likes doing chores.

**Author's Note:**

> That summary is misleading, I think. Makes it sound like something angsty.


End file.
